


Empty Handed

by SadinaSaphrite



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Any excuse to torment McCree and make other characters feel bad about it, Body Horror, Explosions do bad things to people, Gen, McCree Loses The Arm, Mild Language, Surprised there aren't more of these fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 14:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11625828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadinaSaphrite/pseuds/SadinaSaphrite
Summary: Part of Blackwatch Week 2017. Day 5: Regrets.The Blackwatch Boys split up for an infiltration mission, but not all of them come back in one piece.





	Empty Handed

Shit. Shitshitdammit _shit_.

Gabe was used to missions hitting snags, even going sideways, but it had been a long while since he’d personally had a mission go so catastrophically south that his adrenaline surged and his heart pounded in his ears like this.

The mission was supposed to be simple reconnaissance; He, Shimada, and McCree were checking out a set of warehouses used by a local gang to manufacture and store drugs. Gabe had on very good authority that a significant portion of the drug money was going into Talon funds, even though the terrorist organization wasn’t related to the gang itself. They’d split up. Three agents, three warehouses. The plan was to sneak in, gather intel, and then regroup to put together a plan for how to proceed.

The last thing Gabe expected was for the building to be rigged with explosives. 

Only experience helped him spot the telltale wires interlacing across the support beams. Why the hell was this place rigged to blow? Was this a trap? Sabotage from a rival gang? Or was there more going on here than simple drug running? Reyes couldn’t see a trigger for the explosives, so carefully retraced his steps, leaving the warehouse exactly how he came in. The moment he was out of the building, he sprinted for the rendezvous point, jumping on his com unit.

“Abort mission, full retreat. Meet at the rendezvous point.”

“Understood,” Genji’s voice chirped through the communicator.

“Negative, there’s somethin’ else going on here. I need a closer look,” McCree’s voice was hushed, whispering through his com.

“I said abort mission, you ingrate! My building was rigged to blow!”

“That don’t necessarily mean my building is set to go off. They ain’t making drugs in here, this is somethin’ else. I’m moving in.”

“Goddammit McCree, you piece of shit! Retreat, that’s an order!”

“Hold up, Boss. Just gimme a sec to-”

An explosion rocked the night. Two more followed the first, as all three buildings went up in flames.

“McCree! McCree, report!” Silence hummed on the other end of his com. “McCree, what’s your status?” Nothing.

Cursing, Gabriel changed direction, racing for the warehouse McCree had been assigned to. “Genji, rally to my position.” He activated the tracking software in his com unit, letting Genji see where he was heading.

Shit. Shitshitdammit _shit_.

Genji caught up to him just as he reached the wreckage of the warehouse. Half the roof had collapsed, along with one wall, and the whole mess was on fire. There was no sign of anyone within.

“Spread out,” Gabriel barked. “Find him!”

Genji darted into the wreckage, leaping over rubble and flames without a sound. Gabe proceeded much more cautiously. He wasn’t as light-footed as Genji, and one wrong move could shift the unsteady debris enough to send the rest of the roof crashing down on top of them. He scanned the wreckage, looking for any sign of McCree, or any sign of further sabotage or ambush. The last thing they needed was to be caught off guard. Again. 

Toward the center of the building were the remains of multiple large vats, the thick steel blown to shreds. Pooling around the broken steel was a sickly, acid-yellow liquid that steamed and hissed, spitting wherever it met hot flames. McCree was right, Gabe had to admit. Whatever was going on here wasn’t your run-of-the-mill drug trafficking. 

“Here!” Genji’s voice was sharp in Gabe’s com. “By the East wall.”

Gabe looked up sharply and saw the ninja on the other side of the building, crouching amid the rubble. Taking care to avoid the yellow liquid, Gabe made his way to him.

“How is he?”

“Alive. Unconscious.”

Gabe let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Come on, let’s get him out of…” Gabe trailed off as he climbed the mound of rubble to find the state McCree was in. 

_Shit._

The kid lay sprawled on his back, blood running from his nose and from somewhere above his hairline, seeping into his right eye. He was breathing through his mouth, chest heaving with sharp, deep breaths. Peacekeeper was still in its holster, not that a six shooter was going to do much good against an exploding building. 

“…Boss? What should we do?” Genji looked at him, eyes uncertain above his faceplate.

Gabe slowly approached McCree, eyes falling on what Genji was referring to. McCree’s left arm was crushed between two steel beams, pinning it at the wrist and mid-forearm. Further trapping his arm was a rod of rebar jutting through the center of the winged skull tattooed just below his elbow, impaling his arm to the slab of concrete below him. 

“…Boss?”

“Come on. Let’s see if we can move that beam.”

McCree came to as Reyes and Genji were trying to lift the steel beam that kept him pinned.

“What…where…” McCree’s blinked blearily at the ruined ceiling before looking around, his eyes falling on the mangled mess that was supposed to be his arm. “Oh…oh god…”

“Keep it together, McCree,” Gabe’s teeth were clenched as shoved at the beam, putting all his weight behind it, Genji doing the same beside him. “We’re getting you out of this mess.”

“Boss…my arm…Gabe, I can’t feel my arm…”

“Probably for the best,” Genji grunted, cybernetics whirring as he pushed with all his strength. The beam remained perfectly still, not even shifting a millimeter with their combined efforts.

“Shit…Genji, stop. This isn’t working.” Gabe looked at the wreckage around them, at the growing flames and the creaking ceiling above. “We don’t have time for this. This place is going to come down around us at any moment.” He considered McCree for a moment, thinking and not meeting the gunslinger’s eyes. “…Guess we don’t have a choice.”

McCree swallowed hard, looking up at them. “…I understand. Go. Leave me. I’ll…I’ll be…”

“What?” Gabe started and finally snapped his gaze to McCree’s, shocked. “Leave you? Pendejo, you are dumb as shit. We’re not leaving you, dumbass.” He fished something out of one of his packs, what appeared to be a black nylon belt with a metal rod attached to it. “…Though you’re still not gonna like this, kid. Genji, I’m going to need you in a moment here.”

Gabe wrapped the nylon belt around McCree’s upper arm, synching it down tight, then using the metal rod to twist, making it even tighter.

“…Boss…what is that? What are you-”

“Tourniquet.”

McCree’s eyes went wide with realization, looking from Gabe, to the tourniquet, to his mangled arm, then to Genji, who was slowly moving to rest his hand on the wakizashi at his waist.

“Oh hell. Oh my god. You’re…you’re gonna…”

“It’s the only way to get you out, and that arm’s trashed anyway.” Gabe twisted on the rod one more time, making the tourniquet painfully tight, then locked it into place. He looked over at McCree, and his face softened. The kid (and really, he was barely more than a boy in Gabe’s eyes) was staring up at the crumbling ceiling, face pale and breathing hard, trying to swallow down his fear and panic as he fully realized what was happening.

“…Jesse,” Gabe put a hand on his shoulder. McCree’s eyes darted over to his, wide and frightened. “…Do you want me to knock you out for this?”

McCree swallowed, seriously considering it. “…no. Just do it.”

“Okay,” He knelt down behind McCree and put his arms around him, both supporting him and holding him down. He started pulling one of his gloves off. “Genji, once you cut him free, you’re going to help me pick him up and sling him over my back.” He pointed to the crumbled ruins of one wall. “That’s our exit, and going to be the fastest way out. We keep going until we’re out of danger, then we can stop to bandage him up properly.”

There was a groan of steel from above as the building threatened to give out.

“Jesse, are you ready?”

McCree bit down on his lip and nodded.

“Good, because we’re out of time. And don’t bite your lip, bite this.” He shoved the glove into McCree’s mouth. “Do it.”

Genji’s eyes flicked to McCree.

“I am sorry, McCree.”

He unsheathed his wakizashi with a hiss of metal, and McCree clamped his eyes shut, turning his head away. True to Genji’s skill, the blow was fast, precise, and clean, neatly severing McCree’s arm at the elbow. The blade was so sharp that at first all McCree felt was a soft impact. He cracked his eyes open. _Then_ the pain hit. 

McCree arched his back and screamed, straining against Gabriel’s iron grip, teeth clamping down on the thick material of the glove in his mouth. 

“Get him up, let’s move!”

McCree was still screaming as Genji helped sling him over Gabriel’s back, as he made his way out of the building as fast as he could. The warehouse finally gave out and started coming down as Gabe made it about thirty feet from the building. He glanced back to find that Genji was nowhere to be seen.

“Genji? Genji!”

As the roof collapsed and the flames billowed, he watched Genji scale over one of the crumbling walls and sprint toward them, something clutched in one hand.

“Sorry, Commander. I saw it on the way out and I just thought…”

It was McCree’s hat.

“Goddamn. You goddamn idiot. Both of you.” Despite his words, there was a softness beneath the growl in his voice. “How the shit did I end up with such dumbass agents? Come on.”

McCree had fallen still, limp against Gabriel’s back, breathing hard as they walked.

“Genji, is that tourniquet holding?”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Good. He still have my glove in his mouth?”

“Uh…” Genji checked, then looked around. “No, Boss. Looks like it fell out somewhere.”

“Damn.”

The walk back to the rendezvous point where the shuttle was stashed was blessedly uneventful. McCree drifted in and out of consciousness, occasionally mumbling nonsensical things in both English and Spanish. With Genji’s help, Gabe eased McCree down into one of the seats and examined his injury. The stump was bleeding sluggishly, but the tourniquet was holding, keeping the arterial bleeding at bay.

“Clean him up and get him bandaged. Stay with him.” Gabe tossed the med kit to Genji. “Top speed will get us to the Watchpoint in two hours. Let me know if anything changes.”

Gabe had them in the air in record time, tearing toward the Watchpoint. He’d radioed ahead, let them know what to expect and what to be prepared for, and was all too soon left alone with his thoughts.

He should have gone in alone. It was just infiltration, what did he need to drag more agents along with him for? He should have taken the mission alone and gone in by himself. He would have found the explosives, retreated, and no one else would have been hurt. _However_ , a pragmatic voice inside him argued, _if McCree hadn’t been come, you wouldn’t have found the vats. Looks like they may have been cooking up chemical weapons, not drugs. And McCree saw them before they blew, and can tell you more when he wakes up._

But was it worth the price? If he’d come alone and the buildings still blew, wouldn’t he have picked over the wreckage anyway? He could have found the vats of yellow liquid even without McCree. If he’d come alone, if he had found the charges earlier, if he’d assigned them different warehouses to infiltrate, if he’d drummed into McCree’s head to follow goddamn orders, if he’d been better at not letting the little shit get away with things like this, trained him with some proper discipline, if he’d done things differently, gotten McCree to trust him more… If, if, if, if.

He sighed. He should be grateful things turned out as well as they did. They were all alive. The information about the possible chemical weapons ensured they didn’t come away completely empty-handed.

…A poor choice of words.

His reassurances sounded empty to himself, and did little to stop the ache of regret gnawing at him. 

If, if, if, if.

If the sound of McCree screaming didn’t haunt his nightmares, it would be a goddamn miracle. Gabe sighed. 

Alone with his thoughts, it was going to be a long flight back.


End file.
